


Marry me

by Perelynn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3145070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelynn/pseuds/Perelynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bloodraven was Shiera Seastar’s most ardent suitor. Many times he proposed a marriage to her. Every time, she refused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marry me

‘Marry me.’

To marry one, when suitors swarm her by dozens? To have power over one, when she can reign over many? She sets hearts aflame with a mere sideways glance. She invokes flexing frenzy with a fluttering of her eyelashes. She casts men into eternal slavery with a smile. She makes friends duel to death with a promise of a lightest touch. To exchange this sweet dominion to the boring routine of a marriage? Never. 

‘Marry me.’

Is he joking? Shiera Seastar is no man’s property. Brynden loves her. Brynden respects her. But in the eyes of the whole world she will become his lady. His domestic. His plaything. His most prized possession. Not a chance. 

‘Marry me.’

Brynden is ready to lay all the miracles of the world at her feet. Is it flattering? Oh yes. Is it worthwhile? Not really. It’s much more invigorating to explore what the world has to offer on her own, testing her wits, skills and crafts, than to sit there waiting for Westeros’s most peculiar curiosities to be brought to her. Shiera will not give up travelling and adventuring for a dubious honour of becoming Brynden’s lady love on the high dais whose only purpose is to accept his gifts graciously. No way. 

‘Marry me.’

Brynden is a dreamer. A persistent dreamer though, she ought to give him that. He asks her for her hand passionately as if he never heard her say ‘no’ in reply. He picks fights with Aegor for her favours as if his hope is still fresh. She doesn’t have time to play along, though. The disguise spell she is working on keeps giving her an unwanted side effect of oversensitivity. Her mother knew this spell. She excelled in using it. What a pity Serenei of Lys had to die before she could teach her little daughter at least the basics of the secret arts. Shiera has no choice but to reconstruct the sacral knowledge from scratch, with nothing to go by but her mother’s assorted notes on the margins of old books - and a gutfeeling. She has no time for love. Not now. 

‘Marry me.’

She can barely make out his whisper. He is thinner than she ever saw him, his white hair is tangled and sweaty, his only eye is shining with fever. Shiera managed to stop the inflammation from spreading lest he would lose the second eye as well. Brynden is in bed in his rooms, fever rendering him unconscious more often than not. But every time he comes to his senses he whispers the same thing. Shiera doesn’t reply. Not a good time. 

‘Marry me.’.

She wraps a white strand of his hair around her finger, tugging slightly to get the man’s face near. He claims her mouth readily, as always. His hands, cool as ever, are caressing her body with a familiar greed. Shiera arches her back under his touch, watching the man through her eyelashes. She could marry him. Now, she could. But there is hollow feeling in her heart, right under the spot where Brynden is kissing her skin right now. Does he really love her, she wonders, or did she turn into a bait for him, into an unreachable dream, into a trophy that should be won no matter what it takes? Does she really want to find out what happens when a man who has been longing for a moon his whole life finally gets it? She doesn’t think so.

No point.


End file.
